The year.

2060.

The world.

Changed Forever.

The five megacorporations that rule the modern world, ever battling for total supremacy over one another, headed by the five most powerful business people in the world: The Five Presidents.

Aleph Corporation. Ganzhou Collective. DeRune Industries. Violet Technologies. Terra Systems.

The criminal organizations who use their underworld dealings to claim power and wealth at any cost: The Six Families.

The Garro Family. The Bellini Family. The Maro Crew. The Ten-Ton Tanks. The Slicks. The Colombo Mafia.

The secretive monopoly whose powerful fashion statements have transformed the nature of power in the last decade.

The Clothiers.

The myth onto which the downtrodden cling. A man sworn to bring down the current order and restore freedom to the world.

Sigma.

And above them all, at the top of the world’s power struggles, above the Five Presidents, above the Six Families, above the Clothiers. The one who can make dreams come true.

The Business King.

But the fabric of this world is beginning to unravel. The empires which rule it are divided. The corporate cold war between the Five Presidents just awaits a spark to set conflict blazing. The world’s workers are beginning to organize in secret. The Six Families are forming tenuous alliances. The Clothiers’ secrets are more closely guarded than ever. And across the world, determined individuals are rising up with a single goal. A goal which pits them against one another and against the powers that be. A goal which may pull the thread which will split the seams of this world at any moment.

Their goal is simple.

Become the Business King.

One of those individuals flies across the city in the passenger seat of a car, her eyes unfocused as the skyline flashes by.

Elizabeth Regal.

Another of those individuals sits at a desk in the rubble of an office, brushing plaster dust off the computer screen before him.

Nico Pinstripe.

And far away from either of them, in the capital city of Aleph, so named for the megacorporation whose domain this land is, stands a massive tower.

***

The tower gleams in the sunlight, its windows shining, its golden accents sparkling. It is surrounded by the skyscrapers of Aleph, but it dwarfs them. On cloudy days, the occupants of its highest floors can look out their windows above an ocean of white.

At the tower’s peak rests an enormous golden globe, slowly turning above a glass canopy that fills the chamber below with daylight. The chamber fills the tower’s top floor. The sign on its ornate doorway reads “President’s Office”, but no one calls it by that name. Those who speak of this room call it what it really is - the Throne Room.

The throne room is flooded with daylight from the skylight above. It’s filled with business people, employees, musicians, and dancers. Servers bustle about with trays of steaming food and hors d'oeuvres.

The room has only one corner which the light does not reach. The throne that rests in that corner is shadowed, but its luxurious importance is undiminished. The throne is flanked by two tall, heavy-set, bald men who wear sunglasses and impeccably tailored suits. They stand with their arms folded, ready for anything. Two golden points gleam out of the shadows, watching the goings-on. A figure lounges on the throne.

He is the head of Aleph Corporation. One of the most powerful business people in the world. One of the Five Presidents. He and his rivals are second only to the Business King himself.

DA-DOOM!

He is:

Midas Aleph. “The Golden Prince”. President of Aleph Corporation.

***

Leroy felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the golden specks peering out of the darkness at him. He was beginning to regret taking the job of Supreme Executive Assistant from its previous holder. In his four-year rise through the ranks of Aleph Corporation, Leroy had relied on his skills of manipulation and deception to worm his way to the top. Now, he had direct access to the President himself.

But something was wrong. Very wrong.

He touched his tie unconsciously. His silver striped tie. The tie that had given him the edge he needed to overcome every previous boss. The tie that had, somehow, inspired just the right words in just the right order at just the right time. The tie that had started scandals. The tie that had allowed him to usurp his superiors again and again.

The tie that simply, inexplicably, terrifyingly, did not work against Midas Aleph.

Not that Leroy hadn’t tried. Repeatedly. But he’d had no opportunities until today. Despite his title, Leroy had only rarely been able to assist the supreme executive of Aleph Corp. Most of the time, his tasks were passed down through a liaison or a digital message. The Golden Prince was seemingly distrustful of his subordinates, and gave them as few chances to learn his methods and patterns as possible.

Leroy had been confident that he would be able to bring Midas down, if he only had the opportunity. Last night, when he’d delivered the news about Ganzhou Collective’s actions, had been the first time Leroy had ever been alone in a room with the president.

And the tie hadn’t worked.

The Golden Prince had been completely unaffected by Leroy’s best efforts to sow discord into his mind. It was as though the tie had simply broken, somehow. He had, in fact, checked it for damage after leaving Midas’ presence, but it was in perfect condition. Just to be sure, he tested its powers on a young couple walking down the street this morning. They broke up within minutes.

He jumped. The golden flecks were on him once more, peering out of the shadows. It was like… Like…

Like Midas knew.

Like he knew, and was amused by Leroy’s efforts.

Suddenly, the president stood.

“Friends,” said Midas softly.

The atmosphere suddenly changed. Almost against their will, the head of every person in the throne room turned toward the Golden Prince. He was still shrouded in shadow. The room was utterly still.

“The time has come. News reached me late last night that Ganzhou Collective has begun to move against our corporate interests. Poaching our clients. Disrupting our supply chains.”

His voice was rich. It flowed over his audience, swaying the sympathies of all who heard it. There was no malice in his tone, yet his words dripped with a deadly fury.

“There are even rumors,” Midas said, his voice growing louder now, “of insider trading.”

Gasps. A general outburst of angry voices broke the silence. “Traitors!” “Who?!” “Fire them!”

The Golden Prince raised a hand, quieting the crowd. “Of course,” he crooned, “I do not believe for even a single moment that members of our Aleph Corporation family would ever betray their own.”

Leroy glanced around. His attention was utterly, raptly, drawn toward President Aleph, but he found that he could fight back with some effort. At least, he could divert his attention onto the crowd.

Every eye in the crowd gleamed gold, in the same way that the Golden Prince’s eyes shone gold out of the shadows.

And suddenly, Leroy understood.

He had written off his previous fear of the president as nerves. Of course he would be intimidated by one of the Five Presidents. Only a fool wouldn’t be. But now the sheer, terrifying might of the Golden Prince dawned on him. Midas Aleph wasn’t just swaying his audience - he was molding them in his own image. Changing their perceptions of the world. Manipulating their very humanity.

The Clothiers can do that?! Leroy’s panicked mind cried. How? How can a fashion statement be THIS powerful?!

But now he felt the pull once more. His protesting mind was soothed into silence. His attention was being drawn back to the president.

He belonged to the Golden Prince.

“Still,” Midas said, “These aggressions cannot go unpunished. We have peacefully coexisted with our eastern neighbor, and what have they given us in return for our good faith? Violence. Thievery. Trickery. Betrayal.”

Midas stepped forward. His face was still covered in shadow, but now his body could be seen in the blooming daylight. His suit was black, with golden threads that glinted in the light. His powerful, muscular body was complemented perfectly by its well-tailored shape. A pair of golden cufflinks twinkled at his wrists.

“Aleph Corporation is the greatest of the world’s five powers,” boomed Midas. “The time has come to prove it. The time has come to turn our attention once more to acquisitions. The time has come… to go to war.”

The crowd erupted. Cheers, claps, stomping feet. The musicians played Aleph Corp.’s anthem. The dancers writhed through the crowd, their movements staccato and aggressive. A war dance.

Leroy felt the euphoria and adrenaline burning through his entire body. He cheered with the crowd, ogled the dancers, high-fived a nearby executive. Wasn’t it wonderful? They would go to war. They would crush the cowards of the Ganzhou Collective. They would be one step closer to becoming the worldwide monopoly that they always should have been.

Midas quieted the crowd one last time. They hung on his every word.

“I have secured a new contract with The Clothiers,” he said. “With their expertise, we have developed a new line of powerful fashion statements that will have the capability to crush our enemies! In one week, we will make the first move! It’s our time now! The Golden Age of Aleph is upon us!”

The crowd’s response was almost deafening. Midas basked in their fervor.

The throne room doors opened.

Midas’ eyes flicked up from the crowd onto the small silhouette that stood in the doorway. The figure who had just entered stepped forward.

It was a small boy. He looked to be about 6 years old. He wore a pair of suspenders over a white button-down and navy blue slacks. His pink hair hung down over his eyes. He carried an envelope in one of his small hands. He looked quite unremarkable, but his presence caused a stir.

The crowd Midas had worked into a frenzy was quieting down. They were slowly parting, making way for the boy, who still walked forward toward the throne. Midas watched him closely.

At last, the boy stopped. He stood before the throne, looking up lazily at the gleaming golden eyes in the shadows above him. The crowd was watching him with great curiosity. One or two people giggled at the absurdity of the situation, but the little boy seemed completely unperturbed.

“Midas Aleph?” The boy asked.

The Golden Prince blinked. “Who are you, boy?” His voice was somewhat steely.

“Kozu,” said the boy. His sounded utterly bored. “I’m with The Clothiers. Got a letter for you.”

He tossed it onto the floor before the throne. Midas eyed it with little interest. His focus was on the boy.

“You’re with The Clothiers.”

Kozu shrugged. “Yep.”

Midas frowned. “How old are you, kid?”

“Six. Almost six and a half.”

“And The Clothiers thought it was appropriate to send a… a child… to discuss business with the President of Aleph Corporation?” Midas’ voice was turning from steel to ice.

Kozu shrugged again. “I guess.”

There was a tense silence.

“You gonna read the letter? I’m not supposed to leave ‘til you do,” said Kozu.

Indignation flowed through Midas’ body, but he didn’t speak. He snapped his fingers, and one of his hulking guards picked up the letter and handed it to him. He inspected the envelope. The seal was authentic. This really was a message from The Clothiers. He cracked it open and scanned it, his golden eyes dashing back and forth.

Kozu, bored, occupied himself by twisting from side to side, feeling the breeze of disturbed air against his hands.

The letter was written in flawless calligraphy, using gleaming silver ink. It was stamped at the bottom with an elaborate coat of arms emblem - the symbol of The Clothiers.

Greetings, President Aleph.

It has come to our attention that certain powerful fashion statements have been requested by Aleph Corporation for the use of warfare against another client of The Clothiers, Ganzhou Collective. As outlined in subsection VIII of Aleph Corp.’s contract with The Clothiers, such a request is permitted, so long as any mergers or acquisitions which take place as a result of such conflict would not substantially disrupt the interests of The Clothiers.

After careful consideration of your request, we have found that it is indeed in alignment with the terms and conditions of our ongoing arrangement with Aleph Corporation. As such, your request is granted. An initial order of 1,000 Battle Uniforms will be hand-delivered one business day after our emissary has returned to us.

While it pains us to say so, we must further remind Aleph Corporation that if, upon inspection, our emissary returns to us with any part of their person, or of their powerful fashion statements, missing, harmed, or altered in any way, The Clothiers will freeze all current transactions with Aleph Corp. and will require a resolution by mediation before business as usual can resume.

Best wishes from the company whose threads stitch the world together,

The Clothiers - Upper Management

By the time he finished the letter, the Golden Prince’s hands were trembling with anger. The insult! The audacity! The insinuation! The wounds to the pride of himself and of his company!

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.

Kozu, who was now trying to do a handstand, simply said, “Letter.”

Rage flowed from Midas in terribly tangible waves. The crowd of his golden-eyed followers began to quake from the force of it. Leroy sneered at the little boy with hatred.

“Nice!” Kozu whispered to himself, smiling at his successful handstand. He tottered a bit, but held his balance.

The Golden Prince had never suffered such mockery in his own throne room. He was President of Aleph Corporation, the namesake of the greatest company in the world, the mightiest of the Five Presidents.

He raised a shaking hand toward the boy. His massive bald guards stepped forward.

Kozu smirked.

It happened too fast for Leroy to see. One moment, Kozu was doing a handstand as the guards advanced on him. The next, he was standing on his feet, cracking his knuckles, both guards knocked flat on their backs before him. Leroy’s jaw dropped. Kozu smiled up at President Aleph.

“Lost your temper, huh?” The boy said.

Midas glared imperiously down at Kozu.

“I told you, I’m with The Clothiers,” Kozu shrugged. “I’m really good. So I can pretty much beat up anybody I want.” He stuck his thumbs in his suspenders, puffing out his small chest with an air of arrogant smugness.

“I see,” Midas growled. His voice was losing its angry edge, but something else was replacing it. “So you really are one of them. And this…” He tossed the letter to the floor. “This really is a message from your management.”

Kozu nodded. “Pretty much.”

Midas was quiet for a long moment. Kozu sighed.

“C’mon dude, I’m getting bored. Just say yes so I can go.”

“I agree to The Clothiers’ terms.”

“Sweet!” The boy smiled and turned away. He walked at first, then ran to the door with a carefree gait. “See ya!” He waved back.

The throne room doors closed. The Golden Prince eased back into his throne. His guards climbed to their feet, wincing a bit, but largely unscathed.

“You are all dismissed,” Midas whispered.

The crowd began to filter out, and soon only a handful of business people remained. Leroy was one of them, as well as a pair of twin women, a very thin old man, a person with long hair, and a muscular giant of a man. Leroy felt chills as he realized that he was now being included in the President’s inner circle. Before, he would have felt the thrill of impending opportunity. Now that he belonged to the Golden Prince, though, he felt deeply honored.

Midas Aleph was brooding in his throne. His inner circle waited patiently. There was war in the air.

“Director Peterson,” Midas said softly.

The thin old man turned toward the President. His eyes were not golden - nor were the eyes of any others here save Leroy. These members of the inner circle were here of their own accord. They were loyal to their company. Loyal to their boss.

“Find the spy,” Midas commanded. “This wasn’t insider trading. This was corporate espionage.”

Director Peterson nodded and left.

“What about us, Midas?” The twin women asked in unison. “We want to help too! Yes, we do!”

“Patience, dears,” Midas crooned. “You’ll get your chance. I lost my temper with the brat. I was insulted, and I reacted poorly. But I have no intention of making the same mistake twice. We’ll strike back at The Clothiers soon enough. But for now…” He nodded to the long-haired person, who nodded back and walked away after Peterson. “For now… our focus is Ganzhou Collective.”

“So focused!” The twins moaned. “That’s why we love you, Prince Midas!”

The muscled giant rolled his eyes and glanced at Leroy. “Right,” he muttered.

“Leroy,” said Midas.

Leroy suddenly felt an inner pull, as though the sound of his name was actually propelling him toward the Golden Prince’s throne.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

Midas glanced at the giant, who immediately understood and stepped towards Leroy. He raised a massive fist.

Midas smiled.

“You’re fired.”